Let The Games Begin..

~*~*~*~*

Things progressed as things tend to do. After a few incidents which were by default sorted out by Call and Elder Jo’ein and H’tch the Bug Busters started to feel a little bit more at ease and began to settle in. They were given a large portion of the middle deck, a place usually reserved for the blooded warriors which later was cordoned off, rooms made bigger and smaller depending on what they were used for.

By the end of it they had an assortment of bunkrooms, a lounge and a large atrium, which was converted at Ripley and Vasquez’s insistence into what human language called a gym. The only stipulation was a group bathroom and that the group had to make an appearance for meal times. Chase however always managed to find somewhere to disappear to.

If Ripley was bothered she did not let it show – after all she was the mistress of the poker face and since their hosts had not seen to question her child’s disappearance neither did she.

Ripley prodded the seemingly alive substance adorning a large serving dish. Seemed everything they ate was some form of animal. Not that she minded. Meat, she could tear into, bite down on and shred. It gave the stoic woman an outlet. At least it wasn’t recycled and vaporized. She remembered many fond times where she would of gladly nibbled on Johner rather than tuck into the military rations they had ‘freed’ upon their travels.

The liquid that the hosts seemed to down by the bucket load was a completely different matter. Not only did it smell like cats piss, it also tasted like it. Half alien hybrid she may be and have a somewhat metal disposition but her stomach was not.

Johner, Hudson and Hicks seemed to thrive in their new environment. Maybe it was that finally they had found a society that had encountered the aliens, kicked ass and come back for more or maybe it had something to do with how testosterone driven it was, but they were certainly making more ‘friends’ than what Vasquez, Call and her were making. If she did not know any better she would say that what was a total male orientated environment was half petrified of anything female.

Talking about females, it didn’t appear that this ship had many to boast of. Those that weren’t H’tch, Jo’ein and the healer Zion had been approached but always seemed to half shrink before doing that strange clicking and disappearing. If Ripley hadn’t been amused, she would maybe thought about changing her deodorant. Speaking of smells.. Ripley gave Call a dour look as she came and sat, below her normal flowery smell there was a hint of her child. A quick glance told her all she needed to know – Call was ferrying food to and fro and probably assisting in the game of hide and seek that was going on.

“How long is this game going to continue. It would be better for all parties if you would stop what you are doing. When she is hungry she will eat and when I say eat, she will eat here with us and with them.”

Call shrugged her shoulders and sighed. The kid had not even replied the times she had asked her to come and eat instead had stared past her with that very familiar distant look and hooked her arms round her knees. She hadn’t yet tried to force her to come with her, leave the little nook she had found and eat more than a few bites of what she could successfully smuggle out and having this conversation with Ripley made her wonder what would happen if she did or if she let Ripley handle it.

After all while Ripley did have a sniff on what the kid did when it came to tracking she could quite easily sniff her out with probably little difficulty. Taking a deep breath, even through it was a fruitless and human thing to do she also cleared her throat.

“There are grills by the gym. Only you, her or I could move them.”

Hunching forward Call pursed her lips and raised the semi curved serving tool that resembled chopsticks. The uglies had an eclectic assortment of foods – there were liquids, semi liquids, stuff that resembled meats, each with a variance of color and smell and then there was the jiggery shit that still appeared to move and breathe. If she weren’t synthetic she would guess she would be plugging her nose about now. Selecting the lesser of the numerous evils and taking a bite Call snuck a look at Ripley who had continued her dark stare. There was a hint of a smile and the android wondered what caused this moment of hilarity..

The sight of Ripley’s smile was a rare sight unless she was planning an attack. The smile, no matter how small was nine times out of ten due to some macabre scheme rather than human emotion. Watching carefully as Ripley pushed back the huge plate, still with that small smirk and with total alien grace wrapped a taloned hand round Hudson’s neck and lifted him upright.

Her young wanted to test her will? Would skulk around under grills and in tight spaces where it was somewhat impossible to remove her from without a fight? Fine. She, Ripley would give her something that she would not and could not ignore or resist.

She ignored the bug eyed look and the furious mouthing that Hudson was now doing, she even ignored the feeling of his skin upon hers, something she had since becoming a hybrid had started to not like. Fixing him with a steely glare but not telling him to shut up as that would make this exercise lose its point.

Noting that the others were fixed watching her, either wondering what Hudson had done to provoke such a reaction or quite simply what the fuck was afoot. Yanking him gently and then turning him so he faced the large doors that were opened, knowing that the scent of Hudson’s distress, his voice and the smell of his blood would carry quicker it if had a larger outlet, nicked his neck with her claws, drawing a few speckles.

His reaction was immediate. Letting out a pained but highly pissed off scream..

“..THE FUCK.. Hey BITCH what the FUCK?”

Upon feeling him struggle Ripley let him loose and stood back with her arms low slung on her hips. Ignoring Hudson who was now furiously posturing and still yelling she smiled. Yes, keep on with the noise. Closing her eyes and tilting her head she took a deep sniff. It was then that the small hairs over her body began to dance. Albeit a slow waltz but that would change in exactly ten… nine.. eight.. seven..

There you are. Ripley opened her eyes at the precise moment her senses went into overdrive, and on cue a little Spanish senorita was doing her thing up and down her body, complete with oles and casinettes. She gave it another ten before her young would trample her way through the small group

Vasquez suddenly snickered, having caught on. Twirling her chopsticks in her hand, the Latino sat back and grinned crooker than a hillbillies smile.

“The fuck you grinnin’ at, man? Bitch almost dug my vocals out.”

“One way of getting the kids attention. It isn’t as if she hasn’t come running to your aid before, esse. It was just your face, man. Like a bullfrog about to barf.”

Hudson glared, rubbing his throat. “Shitty fucking way of getting her to come. Ain’t Rip ever heard of whistles? Fetch or doggy treats? FUCK”

Johner whistled and took a long drag on his cigarette, his expression matching the ‘whatever’ that was adorning both Hicks and Vriess face but the look disappeared when a croaking growl suddenly sounded off from the entrance to the room. A split second later, the owner of the voice was silenced, if they had bother to strain in listening they could of perhaps heard the swift pattering of feet with preluded the arrival of the flaxen haired pixie face a percentage of them had been discussing. Ripley kept standing, neither caring that her stance spoke of threat or that her booted foot was idly tapping against the floor.

There was a faint chitter in her head and her eyebrows rose fractionally as the issuer sedately stampeded into the food hall that they shared with the big uglies, half skidding sideways into a halt. It had taken six months of careful study to catch an emotion on her young’s face but it was always there. A hint of amusement was shown with a quirking twist of lips, annoyance was shown with a sudden flash of intensity in her eyes, danger and pissed off was shown by a rigid stance followed by another hard look.

Today she was sporting a few choice looks; obviously there was intent – the set of her shoulders, the bunching of her small but well formed musculature, protectiveness with the wideness of the eyes and the low-key frantic movements. Her personal favorite was dare she say it, was cute and it was the face of surprise. The expression where the brakes would suddenly slam on and the face would go blank before the eyes would widen dramatically and the head would slowly cock to either the left or right a degree or two.

Like she was doing now.

No one moved and there was silence except for the odd clicking that made up the big guys language. Even now and then one of them would do that strange trilling sound and emit the odd purr.

Ripley stepped forward in the usual gait that would have an army instructor envious and did not bother stopping until she was seriously invading the personal space bubble. Staring down at the mop of hair that seemed to duck lower and lower with every breath she took. She knew this move – through she was a hybrid like her, Chase had adapted her own arsenal of childish defences. Wiles if you will. The lower lip quiver, the puppy dog eyes and the shrinking act of where one acts as if they are shrinking away in an act to make another believe that they aren’t really there. Setting her lips in a grim line Ripley reached out, snagging her fingers and claws in hair and catching her child by the scruff of the neck.

She let out a single hiss. While her hissing wasn’t exactly like that of a reigning queen, Chase sometimes responded to it by either cringing like she was now, skulking away or merely stopping in what she was doing and approaching. Giving her a shake and then dragging her behind her Ripley approached her seat and dragged her daughter along with her.

Throwing what was left of her meal onto another plate and then sliding it to her left she turned her back with another low hiss. It was either this or force feed her and despite her adult intelligence, six out of ten times she had been bested in the art of evasion and she had no doubt that there would probably be a fight of wills. A soft chewing in her left ear made her smile. 1-0 to her.

“Do not be so wilful.”

Reaching out to ruffle the hair above wide eyes whose mouth was occupied with a combination of chewing and slurping Ripley picked up what looked like a bread like substance and moved it onto the plate.

“You will come here with the others.”

Ripley didn’t get an answer and nor did she expect to and even through she knew that she would be obeyed, if grudgingly that there was a lot more to this latest show of disobedience than simply sharing space with their new friends. Of course she knew that there was the issue of being beaten senseless; it probably stung her young.

For one who traipsed about without being touched it was always a wake up call when they discovered that there was a bigger meaner fish. Catching the end of a dark look being levelled at where the head honchos sat, Ripley deduced that her little girl obviously felt like she had unfinished business with one or two of them.

~*~*~

For seven cycles the ooman group had arrived for feeding one member short both for the first feeding and then the second and had only fleetingly been glanced at. He supposed it was a good thing, as Di’Sha still spat when the oomans were mentioned in conversation and even through he did not say as much it was known that if there was an opportunity for either sparing or elimination he had put his name forward. It annoyed him, his brother’s insistence that his honor had been taken away.

Through no one mentioned it in the sparing halls or anywhere else there were more than a few who were impressed by all of the oomans prowess, strength and durability. The other day the second smallest, a wispy little thing had been spotted bending struts and the like on their ship while the male in the small craft used what they referred to as a welder. Already the wispy female and the Alpha had shown them prime sites where the hard meat prey could be easily located and had also hinted that they wouldn’t mind sharing. It was still strange to him that these oomans would hunt something that could easily tear them limb from limb if it was lucky enough.

Not that he thought that the ooman faction that was slowly being adopted into his clan would die without a fight.

The three ooman males Hicks, Hudson and Johner were already well liked by the young blooded and each side would regale the other with tall tales of hunts and fights, each new story more spectacular than the other. It was the females that gave him pause, or more importantly one in particular. He had seen her punished by her mother in the gathering hall, which resulted in her being present once a day and he had caught glimpses but unlike the other females she did not appear to be very social.

The woman known as Vasquez made an impression. She was a perfect example on how to expect the unexpected especially after knocking a random unblooded on his ass. What had happened was not well known due to both parties exaggeration or not, but the general gist was that both parties did something that the other did not appreciate. Said unblooded now refused to go anywhere near the ooman group. Period.

He turned and looked down into the third of seven holds, which was the one that held the craft that was referred to as ‘The Betty’. The females and the obviously revered elder who had no functional legs there, including his father, a few guards and Zion and all were attempting to patch the ship into working order. There was the sound of loud voices accompanied by an obscene noise that passed for a beat coming from somewhere and every now and then a few voices were heard singing along.

This behaviour was obviously amusing his father who was now leaning against a metallic crate with supplies for the overhaul. He could hear the loud voice of the third among the females sounding off in a tone that he had not heard from her before. Tinged with.. what could only be thought of as suggestion.

“UH.. Push it… PUSH it good.. P-pp PUSH it real goooood.. Yeah that’s it kiddo. Woooop!”

H’tch narrowed his eyes and lowered the platform and then widened just as quickly as he disembarked as fast as he could. He had never seen a female move with such.. He didn’t even think there was a word for it. Each took turns copying movements and then adding some of their own. The small adult female would sink to her haunches and then simulate pelvic thrusting while spreading her thighs and then continue the rocking motion until she was upright again, and then youngest female copied, matching thrust for thrust before spinning and angling a caress down her chest with her back arched and hips rocking in what could only be described as a come hither motion.

The come hither was continued when she stopped her pelvic rocking and began to sidle towards his father and guards, a dainty arm extended and finger feigning reaching. And then there was the stare – the context of it hadn’t changed but the emptiness of it combined with such a display was indescribably wanton and lascivious. Both of them despite the fact that they were ooman were prime examples of all that was female.

“Woah.. Very nice kiddo if only Hudson could see you now, man. Blow his load right here and now! .. Yeah YOU come gimme a kiss… uh uh PUSH it GOOD..”

H’tch raised a mandible and trilled lowly at the two guards stood behind his father and narrowed his eyes when they did not move quick enough, the set of their shoulders raged of disappointment. The on going display was not something that their own females often indulged in, except when enticing mates. The ‘music’ had ended and then changed, by Paya any louder and his ear drums were fit to burst but as distasteful as the sounds were the dancing was not and joining his sire, H’tch leaned with the same interest casualness that belied extreme interest.

And watch he did. Despite the affirmation that the female was indeed young there was nothing infantile or childish about the dance that she was doing nor was there censure from the others of her kind eluding to that fact that this behaviour was out of the ordinary which was surprising and yet not. How else could the explanation of such fast procreation be explained? A mandible twitched in amusement. Oomans were obviously a very sexual race. They had to be to spawn in the numbers that they had.

The unblooded that had been knocked about had been made to recount his tale – in showing his appreciation with a hard grope on the females posterior was rejected but according to the stories that the ooman males recounted such behaviour was usually the winning formula. Were oomans as picky as Yautja regarding a mate?

Glancing at his sire H’tch was further amused that he was practically salivating – what would his mother say if she found out that one of her first honored was drooling at the feet of soft meat prey?

~*~

It was a game that they played often and through sometimes it ended quicker than the others she enjoyed this one much more than helping with ‘repairs’. She had been caged on this foul smelling ship for an eternity and her dreams, which were normally either void of full of blurry images were now full of open landscapes where she could run or thick forests where she would have to twist, twirl and flip around.

Chase did not know that she was suffering from cabin fever but Vasquez did hence why she had dragged the, at first reluctant teen, along with her this morning – practically attempting to remove the grills from her hidey-hole.

“We have an audience kiddo. Remember what your mom said.”

At the kids blank look mid spin Vasquez decided to further the comment. “About playing nice, honey.”

After receiving another blank look that was the norm Vasquez stifled a chuckle when the lift to the cargo dock activated bringing it a welcome site. Chase displayed little or no emotion most of the time but it was becoming apparent that she felt something akin to hate or at the least an intense disliking to the one who had knocked her on her ass upon their first meeting. She had been witness to the now numerous meetings and its attempt to be social and more amusing it seemed to take the kids stubbornness and indifference in its stride, content to carry on making overtures.

Keeping her smile on her lips she picked up the blowtorch and with a swift punch started to burn a plate into place. Keeping an eye on her young charge of course. The young charge who was still dancing like a stripper. At the congregated group of aliens that had come down to ‘help’ if needed.

Chase stifled a scowl.

‘It’ was back again.

Mentally rolling her eyes she finished the dance steps she had been mimicking and then started to stare like she always did in the hope that it would get bored and leave her alone. When her pack didn’t want to be around one another or left alone they would vacate, which she had tried only to be followed or they would simply ignore whomever was attempting communication.

She had seen it done before.

Vasquez would ignore everything that Hicks or Johner would do and they would take the hint and leave her alone. Why did it not work? The kid didn’t realise that what was socially acceptable in human groups wouldn’t always be a sure fire way of communication in an extraterrestrial one. Turning slightly and fixing her gaze at the one that seemed to command respect like her mother did she was further befuddled when she saw it was laughing.

The elder whatever they were – she hadn’t decided on a name yet apart from referring to them as ‘big stupids’ or ‘Jerks’ as Call referred to them – had clapped a hand on the object of her ire and done that funny choppy sound that she associated with laughter. Now it was doing that weird clicking thing and swallowed growling. Narrowing her eyes and frowning her brain supplied her with the emotion of anger. They found her ‘funny’. Clamping her teeth together and surreptitiously balling her fingers fists to still them from shaking Chase glared at them.

Big stupid thing jerks! Lifting her lips away from her teeth was an instinctive move as was the hunching of the shoulders and cocking her head to the side.

She was pleased to note that when her stance changed from indifference that the things stopped their sounds of hilarity and other communication and were silently staring back at her. Sniffing quickly, she couldn’t decide if there was a universal scent for fear but a nagging voice in the recesses of her mind whispered that if they were scared then they weren’t scared enough and was gently prodding her into action – to wipe what appeared to be smirks off.. well whatever those moving tusk things were.

H’tch had laughed when his father had made a crack about the oomans ability to attract attention and the laughter and banter had progressed when it became apparent that the young female that he had sought out for another round of ‘he would talk, and she would either walk away or growl or both while ignoring him’. His sire had left then, followed by his party. Staring back at the female who had stopped her dancing and was now stood stock still before he began to muse.

It had been the hand sliding across her almost non-existent mammary glands that had caught his attention – did ooman females not know what that act signified to a male? The invitation it preceded? Obviously not or the current angry reaction he hadn’t seen in a while wouldn’t be being displayed. It turned him on, seeing this little female’s feathers ruffled. Her stance aggressive, teeth bared. Yautja males in their prime wanted a strong female, one who would give as good as they got and one who showed no fear of anything or anyone and H’tch had certainly found it.

If she had been born a yautja he would no doubt of had to batter and kill hundreds of suitors for mating rights, still might if this strange group of oomans were fully accepted into the clan. Despite her not having dreadlocks, scaly skin and being a little short she, including the other females were what was referred to as the mother lode. He was brought out of his admiration by the second beta female’s voice.

“If you want to be thrown head first down the first bug hole that’s found, no guns, no blades and no grenades just you with a pink ribbon you’re going the right way about it kiddo. Ripley said no fighting – no spats. No harsh language; not that the scaly sumbitches will get them anyway but no, no and no.”

Scowling again, Chase turned, her brows hunched and marring her normally pretty face.

“Good. Not afraid.”

“Not afraid of a couple of hundred bugs? Yeah, sure kid. Even you would crap your pants at being faced with that.”

“Watch. Next time wake the hive up. Not afraid.”

Vasquez paused in her welding again and leaned back from behind the strut and eyed the pissed off teen. Haughty little bitch ass punk! Part alien bug or not, you’d have to be a million miles of sane to NOT feel fear of an alien hive. Pursing her lips, eyes narrowed and voice clipped Vasquez bellowed at the kid in retort.

“Don’t gimme any lip or back to your hole. Why don’t you use that can of spray paint and show your buddy how to play hopscotch or something.. I dunno kid, do ANYTHING except attempt to kill any of them… Geez.. I have about four to six hours work and fuck knows where the men are.. Go find them and annoy them for a while ok?”

~*~

Hopscotch? What the pauk was that? Eyeing the budding argument H’tch felt his amusement rise – especially when the elder female ordered that Chase was to ‘do anything’ and vacate the area. He had seen the childish stomp of a foot and pout and stepping easily to his full height and walked to the lift, cocking his head at her, splaying his mandibles in amusement when she took his invitation.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Uh oh. Rip will have a fit if that ends badly you know Cherie.”

Vriess had watched it all while fiddling with a fragment of the outer shell of the Betty’s reactor. He was a man and he had seen the look on their new friends faces at Vasquez and then his little cher’s antics. True, if he was in full working order then even his cock would have been rearing in his pants but as fate had been a bitch twelve years ago he had watched the scene with a fathers eye. Chase, despite being only a child in his, and everyone else’s eyes had caught the attention of not one, but at least a handful of whatever the fuck they were.

One of them had a gleam in his eyes that he; himself had once sported in his youth. Recognising that it would only take a further little push, he had turned the music off and ignoring the dark look levelled on his from the Latino, carried on with the very bad work he was doing.

“What the fuck you talkin’ about man? Better that she goes and gets a nap, and out from under foot. Not like we need her to bend or brake shit is it?”

Stifling a smile, Vriess continued tapping a few close together buttons with the slender end of his screwdriver and not looking up at the irritated glance he was receiving.

“Didn’t you see who she left with? After all you told her to go play with him and who knows what they will get up to… hmmm? Your call.”

“The fuck? She’s gone for a…”

Vasquez shut her mouth on her escaping sentence with a click. Rolling her eyes with a softly uttered ‘Oh SHIT’ she threw down her blowtorch and without a goodbye headed for the lift cage and started punching buttons while fiddling almost frantically with her head comm.

“This is Vasquez, Docking level. We got problems…”
~*~

Chase didn’t find the current situation funny. Breathing the same air as one of the hulking stupid jerks was not her idea of fun – but here she was; following the stupidest jerky thing of them all. She fought the urge to pounce and inflict as much damage as she could before sidling away and practising her innocent face. Not that it would matter, the Ripley would know it was her, from the wounds that were inflicted by teeth, claw and whatever else was ready to hand.

Sighing she wondered why she had stepped onto to the lifting device again. Vasquez’s semi blasting probably had something to do with and she was seldom on the receiving end of so she presumed that it had been instinct to flee from an alpha, even if was an alpha in name only.

The big jerk still had its tusk things splayed and faintly curved in her direction. That alone gave her the will to reason that she should snap them, one by one until both pair were bloodied and unrecognisable. Growling softly and turning to the side she chose to stare at the repetitive black and grey metal that made up the internal structure of their ship. She’d be damned if she would share a favorite game with it that was for damned sure and in fact, she mused as she straightened up she would be damned if she would spend any time with it actually.

She would wander off and away from it when the cage opened and head for her hole even through she did not need or feel the urge for a sleep. Narrowing a disdainful glare in its general direction she sniffed, decision made.

That was until the cage opened in an unfamiliar part of the ship.

The area was flat and bare and the stars twinkled through the large plane of glass at the end. It was also a lot lighter than the rest of the ship and through it was bare of seating and such it was bustling with activity. Others of the things were engaged in rough and tumble – Chase’s favorite game.

~*~

Knowing that Di’Sha would not be on upper training decks at this time H’tch after giving the third alpha female an amused glance decided that he was due for some exercise and it did not take an expert in posture, even through he was to know that the small female he was with was also climbing the walls with the need to burn off energy. He had seen the expressions she gave when the males on her group would leave talking about their need to exercise and of the wrestling matches that they had been part of – even through they had all lost; they had put up enough fight to gain respect.

He watched how the stance went from disinterest into a flurry of activity. He wondered if he were to lay a hand on her twitching shoulders if he would receive a shock from all the energy that seemed to be drawing to the surface at that moment.

He strode past the ooman and taking the lead as was his right growled with satisfaction when he heard the dainty steps behind him. He paid no attention to the low voices of others of his creed, ignoring them all his attention instead fixed on the flaxen haired head that swivelled this way and that, seeming to not concentrate on a fixed point but H’tch new better. He knew a predator when he saw one and did not know whether to be pleased that the one walking behind him was obviously noting strengths and weakness.

The fact that she was ooman was puzzling but he recognised the danger she presented in the way she walked and of course from first hand experience, his armour still bore the scars of her surprisingly sharp claw tipped hands. Hands he had inspected when she had been downed. Ooman females, to his knowledge were cow like in their docility except for the few that had a backbone, as it was usually the males of their race that held the power. Of course he had never gone on a sight seeing mission but there were tales dating back thousands of years that spoke of rare acts of bravery from the curious race.

Curious, was also how the mother and child managed to heal themselves so quickly while others of their party took a week maybe more to become fully active again. H’tch stopped before his favorite mat and glancing down was pleased to see that she had not become distracted by others of his kind, despite her annoyance or perhaps vengeful thoughts and had followed him closely. It still baffled him that something that wasn’t even chest height packed quite such a punch.

Zion’s mouth was sealed shut harder than a Kainde amedha’s rectal hole about their physiology only saying that they weren’t so dissimilar from them – a fact that even the most uninformed yautja knew. Suddenly his musing was cut short for there, was his darling sibling striding towards him a gleam in his beady golden eyes. Resisting the urge to roar and commence with pummelling him, H’tch instead cast his brother a baleful glance.

“Finally. I knew it wouldn’t be long until you saw sense elder brother.”

Puffing his chest in an attempt to look bigger, despite the fact that the disgusting soft meat barely acknowledged his existence. Di’Sha cracked his knuckles, fully aware that this was a busy time on this particular training deck and was looking forward to reclaiming a portion of his honor. His sire had declared that the oomans were not to be harmed but that did not mean that he, Di’Sha could not break a few bones or cause grievous bodily harm did it?

Besides one could surprise ones self with what could be lived through. A point that he would show the one who tarnished his man hood hunt and then made him look a fool amongst the other unblooded and then the warrior elite. What he did not expect was the anger visible in his brother’s visage or the expression of boredom that graced the subject of his ire.

“I will follow our sire’s orders. A little spar, something for ‘it’ to show the others of its kind and don’t think that I can’t issue a friendly little challenge. The ooman males have all accepted and have not been overly harmed.”

Glancing down at the soft meat, he added with an excited ticking of his lower mandible. “I wont hurt it, much.”

Striding past his brother and ignoring the clench in his jaw, Di’Sha pirouetted, stanced and let out his loudest and in his opinion, best warrior call. His reward was that all other activity stopped on the deck, all eyes, including that of a few of the visiting yautja females turned to him.

~*~

The stench could have choked her if she hadn’t been forced to breath it when she fed.

Everywhere she looked there were packs of hulking things playing her favorite game. Did he bring me here to play? The thought was… confusing. He, it was the sort of enemy. What enemy wanted to play with its foe? Cocking her head in confusion her feet had followed where he/it led. ‘Heetch’ had brought her here to play. Should she play back?

The mother would expect her to play nice which she didn’t have a problem with.. which shot another flash of confusion through her. Was she to be disarmed so quickly by this show of friendship or whatever it was? Well, it was better than going for an unneeded nap.. Looking at his speckled chest noting that despite him being a lot taller than Johner, they looked the same, similar bulky shape and if she closed her eyes to it she could envisage playing tag with him.

Well, she could of would of until the other stupid idiot piss ant found them. This one wasn’t quiet like the other, he would do that annoying hissy, growley clickey thing, point at her when he thought no one was looking and despite the language barrier, Chase knew that he wouldn’t want to ‘play tag’. As he approached it became clearer that she was brought here for more than just a game. She wasn’t so much of a child not to understand revenge and having being the recipient of a bit of a beating from a stranger bigger fish she understood perfectly how he felt. Humiliated. Humbled. Laughed at.

Taking a deep sigh, shoulder heaving theatrically she stepped out of his way, glancing at him quickly from behind albino lashes.

She could –feel- her mothers glare on her back almost flaying her alive with its intensity. Well, she could say that she was playing rough and it wasn’t like Johner didn’t get the odd scratch here and there and besides the ‘Heetch’ had brought her here after all and if all else failed she could blame him.

A small smile parted her lips from her teeth at the suddenly violent trains of though running haywire through her neural processes, oblivious to the fact that short and stupid idiot thing was thinking the exact same thing.

“Play?”

Giving her best impression of the puppy dog eyes and despite the fact that she didn’t want to, reached out and touched the ‘Heetch’ on his upper arm squeezing slightly, using the same stare that turned all four of her male pack into mush at her feet.

He didn’t seemed convinced that much was obvious, perhaps he felt the same way she did about the fact that the room had grown a million eyes and all were focused on their particular space. Sighing mentally, Chase sought through what else worked. Hmm, no only works on Call.

No.. Last time I tried that mother was furious..

Then it suddenly came her!

She had seen Vasquez do this particular thing when she had wanted Johner to come into her room. What she needed Johner for Chase didn’t understand but it had worked, within seconds Johner had melted into a puddle of slush and given in. Mentally smirking at victory, she stepped closer to the ‘Heetch’ and keeping her hand where it was on his arm, half draping and half turning herself into full body contact.

It wasn’t quite how she remembered it, Vasquez had been whispering something she didn’t understand about ‘Beds’ and her left hand hadn’t been visible. Taking another breath she repeated herself.

“Play?”

~*~

H’tch couldn’t believe it. She was initiating full body contact willingly. Initiating it willingly and very well, so very well he could feel his balls tighten at feather light touches on his arm and then again further at the feel of her breath against his chest. Then there was the very female stare he was receiving. Her head was tilted at such an angle that it made one side of her throat bare and the light overhead highlighted it to him and made his fingers itch to touch, to slide his thumb around and along the delicate and soft skin found there.

The clever little minx.

Breaking his gaze from the little minx draping herself over him, H’tch glared at his brother. How could he refuse a request from a female, even an ooman one who asked him like that? Lifting a hand and resting it on her slender shoulder and returning the light squeezing that she was doing H’tch motioned his agreement. Dipping his head and making eye contact he spoke to the sly female he was caressing.

“…Yeess.. Only a spaar.”

~*~*~*~